


Surrender

by Grinner_H



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 03:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4247034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinner_H/pseuds/Grinner_H





	Surrender

It looks like this. 

Four loud walls and a tiny coffee table - pile of letters on one edge, two glasses precariously perched on another; motorcycle jacket catalog as a makeshift coaster. 

There's iced tea in one, Coke in the other. You'd have preferred wine, but you don't want to be drunk for this. 

Somewhere in this room - an iPod in its docking station, _Too Famous To Get Fully Dressed_ on ear-grating repeat. _How fucking romantic._

But if _romance_ is what you really wanted, you'd be fucking your _wife._ You'd be having her on rumpled sheets in your bedroom, peeling fine lingerie off her exquisite, milky skin. Maybe there'd be some seductive jazz in the background, like a scene out of a trite chick flick. 

But you want _this._

And here's what _this_ is. 

An ugly gray couch. A pile of clothes on the floor, or thrown haphazardly over a lone chair's armrest. Your underwear... probably somewhere beneath this couch. 

And Takaba Akihito - naked and disheveled - under _you._

It looks like his kiss-swollen smile. 

It looks like his hard cock - wet and throbbing - in your hand. 

It looks like your necktie in _his._

"Why do you still have this _on?_ " He tugs on the strip of navy blue cloth like it's the question mark in his sentence, like it personally offends him. 

You like the feel of it, the way it pulls against the nape of your neck.

"I'll let you top," you say, warm breath against his already heated cheek. " _He_ never lets you do that, does he?"

\--

It feels like this. 

Your sweaty back against the lumpy couch cushions. The silk of your tie tight around your wrists. 

Takaba's fingernails painting half-moons upon your hip. His lips sucking hard against the skin on your neck. Evidence be damned. 

And his cock - hard and hot and pulsing and _ohgodohgodohgod_ \- balls-deep inside you.

His fingers deftly pull the glasses from your face. He puts them on. "How do I look?" he says blithely, a mockery of Holly Golightly. 

"Absurd," you return, liar that you are. You really meant to say, _"Sexy as hell."_

Takaba grins, this satanically beautiful thing; eyes glinting like murder and _need._

And it feels like his lips on yours; giving, taking, sharing breath and splitting barriers. 

It feels like the pull of his hand around your cock. 

It feels like _greed_ and _heat_ and _desire_ and _fuck, this couch is gonna fall apart if he fucks you any harder._

And it feels like _this_ \- _he_ \- is the only thing in your life that you really want at all. 

\--

It goes like this. 

You slide beneath the cotton covers of your sinfully comfortable bed, slip your arms around the slender waist of your wife. 

Mayu turns around in your embrace, kisses you affectionately on the nose in that cute, playful way she always does. She doesn't ask, _"Where have you been all night?"_ She only says, "Hey. I've missed you."

You run your fingers through her light blonde hair, stare into her eyes that's _his_ shade of soft hazel. 

You think about the bruises on your wrist and his wicked smile; his teeth marks beneath that ring around your finger. 

And you say, "Yeah. I missed you too."


End file.
